


Rain

by wicked3659



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 03:32:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2009310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked3659/pseuds/wicked3659
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for rare pairing's (livejournal) fic-a-thon challenge.<br/>Prompt: Prowl/Bluestreak - It can't rain all the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Optical fluid aka tears/crying is used in the Marvel Generation 1 comics so I borrowed the idea.

Prowl stared out across Tyger Pax. His balcony overlooked most of the city but he’d never been one to be enamoured with views. None would ever measure up. Not anymore, never again. He sighed as the acid rain began to fall and thunder rumbled in the poisonous sky. Bots in the streets scrambled for cover and all Prowl could do was watch. He didn’t even flinch when acid splashed onto his plating as it hit the balcony rail. 

If this were any other city, any other acid rain storm, he’d probably be down on the streets ensuring civilians were getting to safety as it was he wasn’t even on duty. Prime had insisted he take leave. “You need to mourn,” he had told him. Prowl pulled a face at that, he felt numb inside and out. Mourning wouldn’t do anyone any good, it certainly wouldn’t kill any Decepticons, which was what he really desired right now. 

“Why are you standing in the rain again?” 

Prowl’s doorwings rose quickly on his back at the sound of that familiar voice. He turned to regard the younger mech with a mild frown. “I was thinking,” he replied blandly. 

The other Praxian smiled at him. Prowl didn’t know how he did it, keep smiling, he’d likely lost more than he had in Praxus. “Come inside?” the storm grey mech held out his hand expectantly. His tone was less of a request and more of a gentle command. 

Venting a sigh, Prowl did as requested anyway. He regarded the younger mech coolly. “Happy?” he asked with a raised optic ridge. 

“With you? Always,” the other mech replied cheerfully. “You miss your work,” he stated more softly, taking hold of Prowl’s hand anyway and giving it a squeeze. 

Prowl’s frown deepened and he averted his gaze. “It is the distraction that I miss.”

“Liar,” the younger mech laughed. “You miss all the order and being in charge, admit it.”

“Bluestreak, please, I am not in the mood,” Prowl replied softly. “I know you mean well and I appreciate your effort, but I cannot pretend nothing is wrong.” 

“Do you think I’m pretending?” came the soft reply, Bluestreak’s face now devoid of a smile as he gazed at Prowl sadly.

Looking back at him, his optics bright, Prowl shook his helm. “No! I didn’t mean that you were, I just--”

“--are finding it hard to deal?” 

Prowl wilted with a defeated sigh and nodded. “I apologise, I am not good company at the moment, perhaps you would be better suited to spending time with the twins, they seem to be quite protective of you.”

Bluestreak’s doorwings gave a flick and he ducked his helm shyly. “Yeah, they remind me of my brothers. When I told them that, they made a point of hanging around me more because it cheered me up and I think that’s why they insisted on coming,” he shrugged. “It’s not the same and they know that but what else can they do?” his optics glistened with unspoken emotions. “You didn’t just lose a family, Prowl. You lost a whole city. Nobody can understand that, we all react differently. Smokescreen has his ways, I have mine but you…” he pressed closer to Prowl, uncaring as the older mech stiffened at the invasion of his personal space. “You’re not dealing. You’ve been taken away from the one place where you thought you could get revenge but revenge isn’t going to bring them back.”

“I am aware of this,” Prowl replied pointedly. “I have every faith it will help ease… the pain of loss.” 

Bluestreak shook his helm. “It won’t, it’ll just make it worse. It’ll eat at you until there’s nothing but a husk left of your spark,” he bowed his helm, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Then you really will be sparkless.”

Prowl balked at that. He knew the nickname some of the soldiers called him. He was stoic to a fault and it rubbed many a mech the wrong way but his feelings ran deep and strong. It hurt even if he did not show it. “I… I am sorry, Bluestreak… perhaps… that is for the best.”

Pulling away, Bluestreak kept tight hold of Prowl’s hand and tugged him over to the nearby berth and sat down. He patted the seat beside him as he gazed up at Prowl. “What they all say about you, they’re right,” he declared resolutely, when Prowl scowled in annoyance at the reminder, Bluestreak smiled. “You are a stubborn aft,” he chuckled at Prowl’s surprised glance. “I’m going to tell you why it’s not a good thing that you become the thing you hate and you’re going to listen to me.” 

Hearing the quiet determination in the young mech’s voice, Prowl acquiesced and sat down beside him. 

Bluestreak patted his hand and stared out of the open balcony, watching the acid rain fall. “It rained when I was trapped under that building. Nobody had even thought about starting a rescue at that point.”

“Bluestreak…” Prowl murmured trying to pull away and avoid this topic of conversation at all costs. 

“No you need to hear this,” Bluestreak refused to let go of Prowl’s hand. “I felt where it burned my plating, luckily,” he let out a soft humourless laugh at the irony, “the building, my brothers protected me from the worst of it. It was so acidic though I could hear the metal sizzling around me. Their weapons had caused the worst acid rain storm ever to hit Praxus. They didn’t happen that often, I’m sure you know that,” he glanced at Prowl. “Anyway, I heard them retreating and I didn’t know how bad it was. It felt like I lay there for vorns and by the end I was literally waiting to die,” he bowed his helm, falling quiet for a moment as emotions roiled through him.

Prowl watched him with dim optics, sadness in his spark at what Bluestreak had had to endure. He had been buried under his family home. He had been found with the corpses of his brothers lying over him. They had thrown themselves over him just as the building fell, their dying act, saved their little brother’s life. 

“Most mechs would probably think I’m insane but I just kept talking to my brothers. I don’t know why but they were right there and it didn’t matter that they didn’t answer, they were with me,” Bluestreak swallowed hard and frowned a little as he tried to keep his emotions from spilling out. “Then, I really thought I’d lost it when they answered me,” he laughed somewhat uneasily. “But it wasn’t them, it was you,” he looked at Prowl with a smile. “I never told you that you sounded like my oldest brother did I?” 

Prowl shook his helm. “You did not,” he replied softly. 

Bluestreak nodded. “I knew he was deactivated. I knew but you kept talking to me, replying to me, indulging me even when I called you brother. I could hear other voices telling you it wasn’t safe because of the acid rain and to move away, wait for it to stop and that my injuries were too severe. You played along, pretended to be my brother so I would stay calm and not stress out my systems while you demanded that others dig and ordered others to put up a shelter. When I told you that the rain hurt, do you remember what you told me?”

Prowl met the bright optic’d gaze and shook his helm, unable to find the words even though he could just access the memory file. 

“You said, ‘it can’t rain all the time,’ and that I was so brave and that you were proud of me,” Bluestreak inhaled shakily and his doorwings fluttered. “When they had removed the rubble in order to get me out, I begged to say goodbye because I was delirious by that point and still thought you were somehow my brother, looking out for me,” he gazed at Prowl with a watery smile, optics shining at him, intakes hitched as optical fluid slipped down his cheek. “You let me say goodbye, you knew he was already gone and you let me and you told me it was going to be okay and that I could rest now,” Bluestreak bit his lower lip a little nervously. “When I heard you speaking in the medical facility when I first woke up, I knew and I have loved you like family since that moment so it’s only right that I do for you, what you did for me.”

“I don’t understand,” Prowl murmured with a whisper. 

“If you give into the anger and need for revenge, if we go back to Iacon now, like you want to, like you keep requesting of Prime, then you’ll die, maybe not in body but in spark and you have a beautiful spark, Prowl, I can’t just let you die,” Bluestreak shook his helm at that. “You didn’t let me go when I was trapped and alone, so I shouldn’t let you.

“Oh, Bluestreak…” Prowl responded, barely audible as he turned and wrapped his arms around the younger mech, pulling him into a tight embrace. 

Bluestreak didn’t need to see or hear to know Prowl was sobbing, he just held him. He’d said all he could. 

They remained like that for some time, gradually sinking down on the berth, where they lay together, their chevrons touching, their arms wrapped around one another in a pure moment of comfort, grief and understanding. 

“It’s still raining,” Prowl spoke softly after a few cycles, his optics dim as he gazed at Bluestreak. The pitter patter of the heavy rains could be heard in the quiet room. 

Bluestreak smiled and wiped a stray tear from Prowl’s cheek. “It can’t rain all the time,” he leaned closer and kissed the middle of Prowl’s chevron as his own brother used to do for him whenever he’d been scared or upset. “It’s going to be okay, you can rest now.”


End file.
